Diraiton
by sabakuXnoXsalem
Summary: Nothing but story is mine! Inspired by morten Lauridson's musical arrangement of the poem 'Dirait-on so they say '  L ponders over Light, seeing him through a certain poem. L/Light if you squint. Read/review! I need feedback! Should I continue? oneshot?


L sat in his usual thinking position, heart unusually heavy. Today was the day of Kira's judgment. The looks of the jury will be quite shocked to see Japan's top student waltz in with his beautiful head held high.

Beautiful?

He stared at the monitor showing Light in his temporary holding cell, his head quirking sideways as he truly accessed the mass murderer's features.

Yes, beautiful.

Such flawlessness, pure appearance, intelligence wasted away.

L felt despaired as he compared to a rose, and to a poem.

L's wide eyes closed slowly as he recited the French in his head.

_Abandon entouré d'abandon, (abandon surrounding abandon)_

Left to himself, his own warped view of justice, life and his own being, so absorbed with it, wild and unsuspected of him.

_tendresse touchant aux tendresses… (tenderness touching tenderness…)_

So entranced with his own skewered vision of his Godliness, image of himself, winged, exalted in white light but touched by no one else.

_C'est ton intérieur qui sans cesse se caresse, dirait-on. ( Your oneness endlessly caresses itself, so they say.)_

To pride yourself, because no one equal shall pride you as others walk under your hovering feet. They are no one to you as you are to yourself, because no one can be, so they say, Light?

_se caresse en soi-même, par son propre reflet éclairé. (Self-caressing through its own clear reflection.)_

So entranced by the face, attractive and rich in colorful warm life and feelings, head held above in confidence. Flood the reflection with outward praise, Dear Light, may I caress you as well? Surely you are not so lost in yourself to ignore my companionship? There is more than this, in such a small view, such a small reflection of you, Light.

_Ainsi tu inventes le thème du Narcisse exaucé. (Thus you compose the theme of Narcissus fulfilled.)_

To fall to such a fool's trick, how unlike you, most beautiful one, but perhaps this is the fate of beauty. But surely, the reflection cannot warp your mind so? I have faith for you to see with your mind, and not such treacherous eyes, yes? Yet seeing with both, your ego will continue to be self caressed, there is no doubt. Is this narcissist deserved?

You were still captured, Dearest God. Did you not see me behind you in the reflection?

But of course, this is no reflection in reality. This is a Death note.

And this is no fool, this is Light.

Nor was this his beauty alone, but his exalted judgment.

Was this normal for one who has been praised openly his entire life?

L looked longingly at the clock, then at Light in the monitor, rocking hopelessly and muttering to himself in the corner.

What if Kira never showed up to the trial? Surely he had the ability to simply dissapear? Surely L had the ability to make him? _Dirait-on_…

Will I be your rose, dear Light? To grow at your so called grave, to be the only one to mourn?

I wish to know you, Light, not Kira. I wish to be your rose, surely this can be done if we remove the reflection?

_Dirait-on_…

He called Watari into the room, leaving to Light's cell before Watari could get to him and talk him out of it.

When Watari walked, the large monitor displayed L, making a deal with Kira.

"Come and be beside me, Kira, then be gone, and when you go, leave Light behind with me."

Watari could not question L, but only prepare the jet. They were going to have to be out of the country within the hour.

His eyes skimmed over a piece of paper, having L's mother's favorite poem written all over it in what looked to be L's best handwriting.

Watari lifted his head to see L on the monitor, his hand stretched out to his only intellectual equal and nemesis.

_So they say…_

I'm singing this in choir, what was originally a french poem arranged into a beautiful song by morten lauridsen. Dirait-on (so they say).

If you have the chance, search on youtube "Dirait-on. Morten Lauridsen" exactly. You will see the face of an old man as the video.

Then to more capture the story behind the poem,

http : / / wiki. Answers. Com /q/ what _is_ the_ translation _of_ Dirait-on _lyrics

But of course no spaces ;)

When I heard and read this, my mind automatically thought of Light's narcissist behaviour. The death note only making it worse. L being the rose left behind to mourn for his lost fellow genius and the person Light once was or could have been. (If L hadn't been the one to perish, of course..)

Anyway, I hardly ever get emotional or feel anything like I did for this song/poem/story, and I'm HARDLY poetic, but I do have moments like these where I just write what is felt. Do tell me what you think? Feedback? Oppinions?

~SaLEm


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